Now That Feels Right
by Marcus the Iron Raven
Summary: House/Wilson slash. Commissioned story for WidowedBird.  Wilson finally gathers the courage and lets out his feelings for House.


Author's Note:  
>This was a commission for WindowedBird .netu/1570395/  
>1,000 words - 10,000 gaia cash transferred<br>She requested a House/Wilson romance, and I gave it to her.  
>Note: I'm not gay, but neither am I unsure of my masculinity.<br>So I don't mind writing these.

I didn't realize this would get so many hits in such a short time, please, any feedback would be great!

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><p>"Perhaps he was right, he usually is. Maybe I do only go for the vulnerable women, only so I can help them get better and stabilise them, only to move on," the doctor said to himself as he shut the door out of his office behind him. Adjusting the collar of his black dinner suit, he pocketed the small box he had taken out of his office and turned towards the southern part of the ward where the elevators were situated. It had been a long evening, and he knew it would get even longer.<p>

The sound of a cane tapping its way down the corridor behind him made him turn around quickly. It was far too late at night in the Oncology Department for anyone but a cleaner to be walking about, but Doctor James Wilson knew one man who would do so, and he was pleased. Wilson was only in the shadowy corridors of the ward because he had made a brief stop to his office after dinner, after he had organised his thoughts and realised the truth. Listening to the tapping, Wilson felt the owner of the cane slowly make their way closer and closer. It was almost like the pulse of a man gone under, he thought. The pulse of a man who had death staring at him in the face.

Quiet footsteps made by the soles of only the most expensive Italian leather shoes joined the rhythmic tapping, and sure enough Doctor Gregory House appeared at the other end of the corridor, his perpetually grim look seeming even more menacing in the darkness. Dressed in a grey suit adorned with a blood-red tie, his inner-demons seemed to hide beneath the surface, but Wilson knew some of the pain that House was going through.

As House drew closer, Wilson felt his heart begin to race. House would notice his fancy suit and will obviously make some sort of sarcastic remark, which was something Wilson knew he wouldn't be able to deal with tonight. At any other time he would have gladly accepted the eccentric doctor by his side, giving him all kinds of shit, but not tonight. No, he would take the initiative.

"Isn't it a bit late to be taking a stroll?" Wilson asked House as he drew within just a few yards of his position, House's piercing eyes looking up and down at Wilson's attire. His mouth didn't move, but Wilson could tell he was amused. His eyes would always twitch and reveal what the rest of his face wouldn't.

"There aren't any idiots around at this time of night," came House's slightly gravely voice, echoing quietly down the corridor. "Makes for pleasant company. Just me and my shadow."

"Anything particularly wrong? Besides the usual, of course. Trying to act sullen while the attentions of a certain doctor are getting to you?" Wilson pressed the attack, hoping to draw attention away from his clothes.

"It doesn't matter. I just like taking walks around the hospital at night, that's all." House's face briefly took on a more morose look before he blinked it away. This was interesting, it meant something was getting to him. Was it something Wilson said, or was there something niggling at the back of his mind.  
>"But only in departments where there aren't any patients wandering around or nurses constantly rolling their eyes at you for being a dick?"<p>

"How about you? All dressed up, ready to paint the town red with a new Mrs James Wilson, only to split and take even more of your money with her. Oh, that's right, you're going for fourth time lucky now." House countered, sending his first shot rocketing at Wilson.

Wilson felt the remark like a slap in the face, but he took it in stride. House was capable of far worse, and he wasn't about to let such a small mocking insult like that get to him. Bringing one hand up and running his fingers through his short dark hair, Wilson just shrugged and offered a smile to his misanthropic colleague.

"Let me guess; you're all out of Vicodin?" A weak blow for Wilson, but he truly didn't feel like antagonising House tonight, he realised. He wanted his friendship, even compassion, and he knew House would pick up on what was bothering him. Even though he was a perfect prick to most people, Wilson genuinely liked House and considered him his best-friend, and he knew the same was true in House's eyes.

House let out a thin smile. "Can't a man just take a short waltz when he feels like it? You didn't answer my question."

"Believe it or not, I already came back from dinner." The admission. House wouldn't let him get away now.

House chortled unexpectedly, then immediately swung away from Wilson and began to walk towards the elevators, leaving Wilson to catch up in a hurry. "So you went out with some hot red number, then instead of getting it on at her place you just came back here? Couldn't find anything wrong with her?"

"It wasn't like that, House. She wasn't... right for me."  
>House sighed. He had felt that feeling so many times recently, but he could never tell if it was because of the women or the medication. No one seemed to understand him and why he did the things he did. Only two people really cared for him, and one of them wasn't exactly on speaking terms with him at the moment. Through all the shit that had happened, through the shouting and arguments, there was only one person truly left. Through thick and thin they had stayed together, and while the odd argument seemed to drive a stake into their friendship, they ultimately triumphed in the end.<p>

"Well, there's always miserable teenage girls to harass with questions about their upbringing and if they're being abused, no need to feel unwanted." House tapped his cane against the button for the elevator. "I'm sure you'll find a nice Goth or whatever who has plenty of issues that can be talked over."

But Wilson didn't answer; he had come to a conclusion earlier in the night, right after dinner, and he was seriously considering whether it was time yet. He fidgeted with the small bag in his pocket, prying open and close the lid. He had bought it a week earlier in hopes of being able to finally push aside his fears. He gulped for air as the nervousness hit him full-blast. This was it. He was going to do it.

"Hmmm, that was quick." The elevator doors opened and House strode in. "You coming? Or do you plan on standing there all night to save fuel?" House added, turning back to stare at the slightly shaking Wilson.

Wilson took a deep breath and composed himself. Walking into the lift, he took the small box out of his pocket. House pretended not to notice, but Wilson just pressed it into his side. "For you."

Staring uninterestedly at the black box, House just threw it up into the air absently and caught it again. He made clucking sounds with his mouth, then brought it up to his yellowing eyes. He sniffed it once, then looked at Wilson, but the other doctor just gave him a sheepish grin and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Wilson's entire existence was now in House's hands; if this ended badly then that was it. It was an insane gamble.

Opening the box casually, House's eyes narrowed. Inside, nestled in a cocoon of red velvet was a tiny silver photo-frame. It was a photo taken years before, in a small bar that seemed almost light-years. In it, House and Wilson stood together; Wilson grinning happily while House just gave his trademark mocking smile. They had visited the same bar where Wilson had originally been involved in a bar-fight, and it had been House to bailed him out of jail. The two men were younger in the photo, less worn but just as close then as they were now. There was no cane in House's hand, nor was Wilson's heart broken by three failed marriages. It was a photo of their younger days, when things seemed just a little more simple.

That changed.

Years of pent-up feelings evaporated into sweet ecstasy as House leaned in, grabbed Wilson by the sides of his head and pulled him in towards him. Their mouths met, and a great sigh of freedom left Wilson's body as his worries and fears left him forever.

It seemed like eons, but Wilson's mind was slowly brought back to the present as he fiercely locked lips with his usually-moody friend, but as he opened his eyes he saw a look of utter peacefulness wash over House's features.

Standing back, each held the other with an arm around the neck.

"Now that feels right."


End file.
